


All The Time In The World

by writeyourownlifestory



Category: IT - Stephen King
Genre: Alternate Universe, Gay Sex, Internalized Homophobia, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-05
Updated: 2019-10-05
Packaged: 2020-11-24 13:15:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20908265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writeyourownlifestory/pseuds/writeyourownlifestory
Summary: Richie thinks about how far he's come in the world while dealing with the realization his comatose husband may never wake up.





	All The Time In The World

**Author's Note:**

> The only clown in this story is Richie for thinking he could ever get over the crush he had on Eddie as a kid.

Richie used to like hospitals. It was strange, even he could admit that. Who the fuck liked hospitals? He didn’t go to them often and when he did, it was usually for something dumb. Like when he was just a little kid and his mom gave birth to his sister. He remembered running all and down the hall, practically bouncing off the walls with so much energy that he didn’t even realize he clonked his head a time or two. 

Another time he had gone to the hospital was when his grandmother was sick. She didn’t die then, but she was damn near close to it. Taking a kid to the hospital to see someone strapped to machines and on a heart monitor was incredibly traumatizing or at least should have been. Richie didn’t think so. He liked the view from the hospital window and all the food in the cafeteria. 

Richie knew people died in hospitals all the time though none of that really processed to him as a kid. People lived. People died. People got sick. Hospitals were just the midway point of all those things. Some people went in but never walked out. Some people went in and then stepped out feeling better than ever. It was different every time and every person. 

He had never had a bad experience in a hospital before so who was he to give it a bad wrap? 

Of course, that was then and this is now and now Richie hated hospitals more than anything. He had gotten quite familiar with the one closest to his home, though he didn’t think that was something to brag about. The nurses knew him well enough. Some even knew his coffee order. There was one nurse who was pretty sweet on him. She’d call him honey and comment about how tired he was. She’d always make sure there was a cot in the hospital room whenever he dropped by and whenever she had the night shift, she’d always invite him to have dinner with her. 

Sometimes he’d take her up on that offer and they’d sit and chat for hours on end. She was old enough to be his mother and far more nurturing than his actual mother ever was, so Richie appreciated that. Her name was Le-Dia and Richie was fairly certain that when this was over, he’d ask her to adopt him. 

This being the endless visits he made to the hospital. 

Truth was, he didn’t visit because he wanted to. If he had a choice, he would steer clear of a place like this and never step foot near it. And he wasn’t dropping by to volunteer. Richie was a good person, but he wasn’t that good. He wasn’t giving or overly caring. 

He donated canned goods and organized a clothing drive while in college. He goes to any event that his mandatory of him because he’s somewhat famous and having him there would be a big deal. He’s a decent human being but he wasn’t a saint or anything close. 

No, Richie visited the hospital nearly every single day of the week because he had to. Because that’s where Eddie was. 

That’s where Eddie had been for the past three weeks. 

He wasn’t supposed to be. No, if Richie had it his way, Eddie would be home with him. In their big comfy bed that Eddie demanded that they make even if neither had work that day. Or sitting on the couch that was sleek and modern if not all that comfortable. Or walking through the park with their daughter, who was babbling up a storm about whatever her four-year-old mind could come up with. 

Richie didn’t want to bring her here because despite what his own parents though, hospitals weren’t for children. The halls weren’t meant for little kids to run up and down and orderlies weren’t babysitters. He didn’t want to drag his daughter down to see her father sleeping in a hospital bed, connected to machines and completely unresponsive. 

He did, however, because he knew better than to keep her away for so long, though it was only twice. She didn’t understand why daddy was always sleeping but continued to talk to him even if he didn’t reply back. She could rattle on for hours about just about anything. 

Richie thought back to when he was a kid and Eddie would be rambling about something dangerous or stupid. He would go on and on and on and Livie would do the same damn thing, though she didn’t really care for germs or anything of the sort the way Eddie did. She was a brave little toaster and Richie adored her endlessly. 

That didn’t mean he was ready to be a single father, however. 

When he got the call, he thought it was a joke. He thought that Eddie was pulling a prank on him and that there would be a huge surprise party or something for him even if there was no need for it. Eddie wasn’t a surprise kind of person, but he would never doubt anything from the guy. 

There was no surprise party or prank to be played. Eddie had been stabbed after an altercation during an armed robbery. The police replayed back everything that happened and it just didn’t seem real. None of it sounded like Eddie. Someone held a knife out and rather than handing over his wallet, Eddie put up a fight. 

Eddie didn’t fight. He wasn’t a fight or flight person. He was a ‘_hands up don’t hurt me’_ kind of person and that was fine. He didn’t have to be a fighter. He was sweet, and kind, and didn’t deserve to be stabbed and have the shit kicked out of him because he wouldn’t hand over his fucking wallet. 

_Ring._

The police said he wouldn’t give up his ring and that was why he was stabbed in the stomach and left bleeding on the sidewalk. 

The ring is his wedding band, that Richie had used his first official paycheck from being an actual comedy writer to pay for. White gold with diamond accents and a Mobius strip design, which in reality was just a manlier version of the infinity symbol. It was a nice ring. A beautiful ring. Richie had the same one on his own hand and he looked at it often, spinning it absentmindedly without even realizing it. 

But it wasn’t worth losing your life over. 

You could replace a ring but you can’t replace a life. Richie had been so angry when he saw Eddie lying in the hospital bed for the first time. Being left out to bleed in the streets was bad enough, the bastard that did this had smashed his head against the brick wall and kicked him a couple of times in the face just to add insult to injury. 

The only decent thing to come out of this horrible experience was that the fucker had been caught and would be charged properly. Richie’s lawyers were deciding whether they wanted to also charge him with a hate crime, but that was for them to decide. Richie wasn’t dealing with that shit right now. 

They put him in a medically induced coma in hopes of him regaining some strength though he didn’t get much out of it. He was left with basically nothing and had been under ever since. 

Richie yelled at him, right there in the hospital. He was sure he looked like a crazy person, just yelling at an unconscious man who was tied up with tubes and shit, but he couldn’t help himself. Maybe he thought if he just kept yelling Eddie would wake up and he’d feel better. He’d yell right back at Richie and they’d move on from this. 

“You’re a fucking _risks analyst_, Edward. Do you know the fucking risks — the _statistics_ — of what happens when you put up a fight during a mugging? They’re _very fucking high_!”

Richie didn’t yell any more but he did talk to him. Every time he was there he talked to him about this and that. About his day and about Livie. He wanted to keep him updated on how things were going without him. 

They were shit and Richie needed Eddie to wake up. She needed him to snap out of the coma and come home because Livie missed her daddy. How he is about three-seconds from adopting a dog and Eddie isn’t there to stop him. How he doesn’t shower on some days and no one is around to tell him to shave or be a man or keep him in check. 

Richie wasn’t supposed to be a fucking adult. He was a man child. A jokester. An asshole. Eddie was professional and responsible. He was the one that dressed like a fucking runway model while Richie wore nothing but open button shirts and graphic tees. He was the one that participated in Pride activities while Richie wore shirts that said: _“your dad is gay too — he showed me last night”_ while walking into the office. 

Richie was the fun dad while Eddie handled the series shit. And now Richie was the one tucking Livie in and keeping the monsters at bay. He was the one making sure she was being looked after while he went to work and then went to the hospital. He was the one keeping it together while Eddie was slowly drifting away. 

It wasn’t fair and Richie wanted to badly to argue about it, but the bastard remained silent. 

Richie wasn’t one to break down but it happened more often than not when Eddie was involved. He saw a part of him that nobody else ever did and found a way to make Richie feel things he didn’t want to feel. 

Truth was, Richie didn’t want to be gay. Being gay in the eighties and nineties was fucking horrible. Everybody thought you were disgusting or were going to get AIDS and when people finally did start to come around to the idea, they wanted to thrust you into this strange sort of box that demanded you basically be flaming and covered in rainbow. 

Richie didn’t like rainbow and he wasn’t some fucking pyro. He liked dick, plain and simple. He tried to deny it because hello, who the fuck would want to be gay in _Maine_, but that was easier said than done when your best fucking friend was so adorable. Yeah, Richie had checked out other guys but Eddie was different. 

He fought against Richie whenever he made a joke that wasn’t funny. He put up with his bullshit but also fired back zingers of his own. He didn’t roll his eyes or walk away. He took him on and challenged him and Christ, if that wasn’t a turn on Richie didn’t know what was. 

Yeah, he had a crush on him when they were fucking twelve and thirteen, but he honestly thought he’d get over that. Truly he did. So what if he carved their initials into the Kissing Bridge? Okay, Richie Tozier did stupid shit all the time. That wasn’t anything new! 

It wasn’t until he was sixteen years older when he found himself dreaming of Eddie. Found himself drifting off to his smile and laugh. How fucking precious he looked in those little shorts he wore and how flustered he would get over the little things. 

For the smallest moment, Richie thought that just maybe Eddie liked him back. They were always close, closer than himself and Bill, but he never wanted to test that theory. There would be small glances that Richie had caught that he had convinced himself meant nothing. 

He wanted to be brave and talk about it and then low and behold, the legend of rock music himself Freddie Mercury up and died of AIDS (pneumonia as a result of AIDS, but that didn’t fucking matter). A guy who had a fantastically magical career, who wrote countless of hit songs, and who wore labels on his sleeve died from a _‘gay disease.’ _

All in all, Richie wasn’t going to come out any time soon. Though low and behold, he found himself thinking of Eddie every fucking time he heard a Queen song. It didn’t even have to be a fucking love song. He could be sitting in his apartment as a lonely adult, getting high and the fucking _Invisible Man_ came on and suddenly he had a stiffy about that gorgeous dork with the arm cast came to mind. 

Of course, Richie didn’t say shit because he knew better than to test his limits and ruin his friendship. He loved Eddie from afar, through high school and even college because of course, he would fucking choose to go to the same state as Eddie.

Eddie, who had been basically locked in a fucking bubble his entire life, literally chose a college on the other side of the fucking country because he had to get away from his mom. They didn’t go to the same school, but they were close enough to see each other often. 

They went on spring break together and even travel all the way back to the lovely town of Derry so Eddie’s mom could try to persuade him to stay and not worry about his degree. It almost worked a time or two, but Richie refused to let that insane wench keep Eddie from graduating. 

They continued on with their best friend trouble until finally, the bow broke at Stan’s bachelor party. Seriously, the guy was into fucking _bird watching_, who thought he’d want to go to a strip club? 

They took him and things got wild very quickly. They were all there, except for Beverly because she got along well enough with Stan’s future wife that she was welcomed into the bachelorette party.

Richie put on a good show, pretending to be excited over tits and dancing, but eventually had to excuse himself because even he couldn't pretend he had a hard-on for the poor girl just trying to do her job. 

He snuck out to the back for a cigarette and found Eddie back there just trying to breathe. He wasn’t having a panic attack, though the inhaler was held tightly in his grasp. Richie tried to tease him, asking why he didn’t want a lap dance but Eddie just shrugged it off. 

It wasn’t his scene and it wasn’t Eddie’s either. They stayed there for a little while longer, with Richie being kind enough to not blow smoke in Eddie’s face every time he exhaled with his cigarette. They talked for a while like they hadn’t seen each other in ages. 

They had just graduated from their respected schools and were each working in California, each lucky enough to be able to have a job there. Richie worked in to improve, which wasn’t that great but he made money while Eddie was interning at a law firm. 

It wasn’t fantastic and Richie wished he could see Eddie more, but he also wished he could see the others more often too. They kept in touch because they all went through shit no kid should have to go through. It sucked but Richie refused to lose sight of the only people he really considered family. 

When Stan admitted he was getting married, Richie wanted to laugh because fuck he was so young, but he was also head over heels in love with Patricia so who the fuck was he to judge? He was there for the party and even went to buy that stupid fucking bird centerpiece the bastard asked for on his registry. 

Maybe they got drunk or maybe they didn’t but somewhere along the way after returning back to the hotel room, they started kissing. Right there in the hallways, kissing like a couple of teenagers after prom. Fuck, Richie didn’t even go to his prom. 

Stan and Bill went because they were always nice to look at and found dates easily enough. Ben skipped because he was too caught up on Beverly to pay attention to any other girl and Eddie’s mother scared away any possible girl that would even look at him. And Richie was gay and didn’t feel like dancing close and pretending like he was interested in the spiked punch the school had. 

So the three of them skipped it and hung out at Mike’s, watching horror movies and drinking whatever beer he was able the knit from his grandfather. 

They kissed and kissed, because kissing felt good and was good and kissing Eddie was better than good, it was _great_. It was all he wanted to do but instead of going further, instead of going into Eddie’s room and letting whatever happens to happen, he ran away. 

He broke from Eddie and the kiss and went back to his room, thinking of whatever he could to get his boner down. When the day of the wedding came, he put on his suit and the fucking baby hat _(yamaka, dipshit)_ and celebrated the beautiful union of Mr. and Mrs. Urine. 

Richie avoided Eddie the entire night until he couldn’t anymore. Until they were literally both in the men's bathroom with Eddie trying his best to wash his hands until they turned red because the place ran out of soap. 

Richie tried to explain it that he wasn’t gay and that he was drunk and that he imagined Eddie was his mom but Eddie wasn’t having it. He didn’t care what Richie was. All he wanted was for him to be happy and if that meant jamming his tongue down his throat for a night, then so be it. Eddie wasn’t looking for anything. Didn’t need Richie to explain the fucking universe to him. They were both lonely and the conversation (whatever it had been — Richie for the life of him can’t remember) led them to that. 

And that was amazing. Amazing because he wasn’t trying to force Richie into a box and make him into something he didn’t want to be. 

So when the chance came along to continue kissing Eddie, Richie took it. Eddie didn’t need labels. He knew what it was and knew how to handle it. They fooled around without any explanation and that alone was a Godsend and Richie didn’t even know he be believed in God. 

They fooled around until fooling because fucking and fucking became basically being together without being together. Richie had sex with girls even if he hated it and he refused to look at another guy because he continued to have that nagging ‘_don't touch the other boys Richie_’ playing again and again in his head. 

_If you touch them, then they’ll know. They’ll know your secret. Your dirty little secret._

Eddie didn’t care about a secret. He didn’t ask Richie to hold his hand or talk him out on a date. He let Richie fuck him every day to Wednesday and didn’t bat a fucking eye over it. He fucked Richie too and didn’t make Richie question how a guy who wasn’t gay loved taking it up the ass. He didn’t need answers for anything. They could just exist together like normal people without making it into something huge. 

Richie told himself again and again that there was nothing wrong for one guy bending himself over his kitchen island so he could he raw dogged and maybe have his hair pulled at the same time. Just like how kneeling down in the shower while sucking the same guy off while simultaneously fingering him was just a friend pulling double duty. 

Richie was a really good friend and there was nothing wrong with that. He was Eddie’s best friend and had been since they were kids. And yeah, maybe sometimes they practice making kids even though it’s not physically possible for either of them to become pregnant. Does that stop Eddie from bouncing on his dick? Nope. Does that stop Richie from _playfully_ calling him _daddy_? No, sir, it does not. 

Eddie ended up leaving LA for New York when a job opportunity came. Richie hated it because not only was he losing out on the warm body that frequented his bed, but also his best friend would be miles away._ Hundreds_ of miles away. They made plans to visit one another, as Richie had begun touring for his comedy. He was funny apparently and people were paying to see him. How the fuck that even happened no one knew. 

Richie had been all excited to visit the big apple and take a bite out of it. And then take an even bigger bite out of Eddie. They went to dinner and Richie spent the whole night flirting, only to be informed by Eddie that he was seeing someone. 

It wasn’t exactly ideal, but it wasn’t like he could pout his way into Eddie’s bedroom. He tipped his hat at anyone who bagged the Kaspbrak boy and then went on his merry way, deciding that his hand was enough for himself.

Richie didn’t even know if it was a guy or a girl. Eddie liked both. Bisexual as the term had been coined. Richie didn’t want to get into it. You like what you like. All that mattered was Eddie’s happiness. 

That relationship only lasts a short amount of time however and before he knew it, Eddie was back in his bed. Richie couldn’t be happier. He fucked around with more women because he had to keep up appearances, but fuck did it feel good to be with his guy again. 

Mike had gotten engaged and they ended up fucking in the jacket room at the restaurant. It was wild and exciting and Richie ran like hell when it was over because despite having Eddie back, all the fear came back into him the following days. 

People knew him now and if they found out that he preferred one over the other and it wasn’t the one he should prefer . . . it would be bad. Nobody wanted to hear jokes from a guy who liked to get dicked, okay? Gays weren’t funny. At the time, there weren’t any openly gay comedians. Gays were the butt of jokes, they didn’t make them. 

At least that was what Richie’s manager told him until he canned his homophobic ass. Richie knew what he was afraid of but that didn’t mean he was ready to face it just yet. He didn’t want to come out and hold hands and be a boyfriend. He wanted to have fun and it seemed like Eddie wanted the same until he didn’t. 

Until one day while on the phone he admitted that he was going on a date with someone his mother set up for him. Richie thought that just saying that the person was chosen by Eddie’s mom was a bad idea because anything involving Eddie’s mom was a bad idea. The woman alone was a bad idea and should have been aborted though Richie had to remind himself that without her, there would be no Eddie. 

And without Eddie, Richie would be a sad, sad man. 

Richie tried to move on the second time around, but it was hard. He missed his best friend. Missed kissing him. Holding him. Fuck, Richie loved to cuddle and Eddie was so good to cuddle with because he was shorter than him and softer and he always smelt nice. They’d go out for dinner and just hangout and sometimes see a movie. Eddie would come to his shows and cheer him on and the more Richie thought about it, the more realized that maybe he was already dating Eddie without realizing it.

So when it was time for their next friend to get married because apparently everybody was just tying the fucking knot, Richie was ready to pour his heart out to Eddie. He went to his room the night before Bill’s wedding, ready to tell him how he wants to hold his hand and be more than friends, but he never got the chance. 

He found himself sitting alone, feeling miserable for himself because Eddie just seemed so fucking blissful. His girlfriend couldn’t come to the wedding, but he talked about her so nicely and happily. The relationship was fresh and new and Richie would kill himself before he allowed himself to take that joy from Eddie. 

So instead he sat alone outside with Beverly, who was cleaning up her own broken heart. She had more or less told Bill everything Richie wanted to tell Eddie, but she was shut down by Bill because despite loving her, he wasn’t _in_ love with her. Not like she loved him. 

Richie admitted for the first time to someone other than himself how he felt about Eddie and Beverly just hold his hand and hugged him close. They were two pathetic losers who fell for the wrong people and it fucking _hurt_. 

So when she cried on his shoulder and mentioned how Bill didn’t even remember that poem he wrote for her, Richie decided that maybe being alone wasn’t so bad after all. Maybe he could be all right on his own and not care about things so much. 

He tried to date on his own and it wasn’t horrible. He went to a gay club because those existed and while he didn’t like dancing he found having intercourse with a man who wasn’t Eddie wasn’t the worst thing in the world. Guys thought he was hot. He had that sloppy, please come fix me look to him. He could fuck someone else and not think about anything other than the pleasure. And he could be fucked by someone without having to know their name. 

He could be gay without Eddie and still survive it all. He liked dick and he liked men and he liked getting dick from men. Eddie didn’t have to be there and it was fine. He still enjoyed himself. 

Even if he found himself lying in bed with another and all he could dream of was that little hypochondriac. They were all in a private chatroom and Richie would find himself reading Eddie’s messages about his health and things he was trying to change more than he read any other message. That was fine. He was fine. And he was fine all the way until he found out that Eddie was engaged. Like, to be married. To a _woman_. 

It wasn’t a sexuality thing. Bisexuality existed Richie would fucking happily pin that colorful flag to Eddie’s wall if he wanted him to but Eddie didn’t belong with a woman. 

He didn’t belong with _Myra._

How he could smile about being with her was questionable as fuck because every other moment seemed like torture. She babied him to kingdom come and treated him like he was mentally ill and couldn’t do anything on his own. They went out as a group one night and she called nine times in three hours. Not even over anything important. She blew up his beeper with all sorts of fucking codes and made it seem like Eddie wasn’t allowed to just be out with friends. 

There was a light in Eddie’s eye that just went dim and it made Richie sick to his stomach. He refused to say anything however because honestly, what the fuck could he say? What could he offer him? He wasn’t out of the closet and he wasn’t sure he was ever going to be. Fucking around in secret was one thing. Actually being out and proud was another. 

Richie felt his twenties slow drifting away. Stan, and Mike, and Bill were all married. Eddie was engaged and Beverly was next. She was to be married to a man name Tom and no one liked Tom. Richie would rather fuck Myra than put up with Tom.

Nobody had the balls to say anything. Nobody but Ben. 

Ben, who had loved Beverly since they were kids. Ben, who had been there for Beverly when her dad pulled the shit he did and was the actual writer of that obnoxious poem. Ben, who wasn’t going to stand back and be polite and ignore the way Tom spoke over Beverly and turn a blind eye to the bruises on her arms and wrist and neck. 

Ben, who changed physically but not morally and told Beverly that even if she didn’t want to be with him, she could do much more better than the asshole she was about to be with. Nobody should have been there for the conversation. It should have been private, but Ben needed to get it out there before it was too late. 

So at the rehearsal dinner of all things, in the back room where all the losers were pilled into, Ben gave his riveting speech that left everyone silent. Beverly fled the room with Mike following after her to make sure she was okay. Bill stood off to the side, looking guilt as fuck while Stan and Eddie just looked around, unsure of what to fucking do next. 

There wouldn’t be a wedding then. Beverly ended it because as it turned out, she had been wrong about a lot in her life. About Bill, and Tom, and Ben. She wasn’t running away with him but finding her own footing. 

And Richie was fucking jealous. Jealous to the point that when it came time for Eddie’s own wedding, nothing was holding Richie back from saying the same God damn thing. 

It was triggered by Eddie’s wedding band. He was toying with it one night while they were alone in his apartment. The wedding was barely two weeks but Richie had free time so he came to New York a bit early. They hung out at his place, drinking and enjoying their private time. 

He wasn’t supposed to wear the ring until the actual wedding but he wanted to get used to the feeling of it. It didn’t fit right. It was too loose and really, too fucking plain. Boring platinum with no design or inscription or anything that made it worth while. 

It was boring and bland and barely fit in Eddie’s finger and that just . . . bugged Richie would than it should. He deserved a ring that he wanted to show off, one that fit him snugly, one that reflected the person he was marrying. 

Bill had begged Richie not to say anything when Eddie was getting married. They may not have liked Myra, but Eddie loved her and they weren’t going to ruin his happiness. They used to think Beverly loved Tom and look how that turned out? 

Richie stood then, pacing back and forth in Eddie’s apartment, one that would be sold soon enough because despite it being close to his work place and big enough to raise a family in, Myra hated it. But Myra also hated children, so Eddie wouldn’t be having any of those. 

Eddie was starting to get worried until Richie finally blurted it out. 

“I’m gay.” He told him, saying it for the first time ever. He was in his late twenties and had slept with a handful of guys and watched male-on-male porn, but it was the first time he was actually saying those words aloud. 

Eddie’s expression softened slightly. He had been so confused and concerned by Richie’s abrupt pacing. “Rich . . . that’s great.” 

Richie wasn’t saying to come out. He wasn’t a poet like Ben. He wasn’t good with words. He said stupid jokes that people found amusing and liked to catch people's attention, but speaking from the heart was never his thing. 

So he said everything on his mind. Be preached about how much he loved Eddie. Said those words so freely because that’s what it was. He loved him. He had ever since they were kids and Eddie would wear that stupid fucking fanny pack and walk around with multiple inhalers. Back when they used to act like dumb kids and Eddie’s mom threatened to have Richie institutionalized. Back before he even knew what love was. He loved Eddie with every fiber of his being and he didn’t give a shit who knew and he didn’t give a shit who cared. 

Eddie was . . . good. He didn’t get angry and yell at Richie. He kept his composer. 

“I can’t just . . . drop everything because you’re ready to hold my hand in front of people, Rich.” 

“I’m not asking you to hold my fucking hand,” Richie insisted. “I’m not pulling a Ben and asking you to leave with me. All right, this isn’t _The Graduate_! I won’t be banging on the fucking window crying “Elaine” as Myra lifts up your veil.” 

“Then what are you doing, Richie?” 

“I’m telling you that you have other options.” Richie knew Eddie was settling. Settling because his mom wanted him to get married and Myra was good enough for him in his own eyes. He didn’t even propose to her. He got drunk and confessed to Stan that Myra told him it was time they got married and he just agreed. He had these two, big horrible women speaking in his ear, turning his head left and right and all he could do was stand there and take it. 

“You don’t have to be with me, Eds. But you should be with someone who deserves you. And Myra isn’t it.” Richie was fairly certain he wasn’t it either. Nobody in the fucking world would be good enough for Eddie Kaspbrak. 

“Richie I can’t…” Eddie shook his head the same way he used to do when they were a kid and fighting over something Eddie’s mother said or did. When he knew Richie was right but was too scared to do anything about it. 

“Don’t do this Eddie. I don’t care if you never speak to me again and you move to fucking Guam. You can go to the fucking moon if you have to, but don’t fucking marry that woman.” 

Eddie asked him to leave then. Richie did, fully believing it would be the least time he ever saw Eddie. It was barley a week later when Richie got an email from Myra. Rather than staying in the city, he went back to LA and figured he’d just hang back and skip the wedding altogether. It was from their joint email account because _of course,_ they were that type of couple. 

It was this long winded, bitter message that Richie didn’t even finish reading. All he got was ‘_don’t bother coming to New York’_ and that was enough for Richie to read. He wasn’t invited to the wedding and rather than texting him, Eddie sent out a polite little email. Richie deleted the message, deciding not to reply. He deleted Eddie’s number and any picture he had of him and moved on because if Eddie could make a choice, so could he. 

Richie didn’t want to go out clubbing or dating or really do anything. He didn’t want to be caught up on Eddie forever but he also didn’t want to just fuck around until he mended his broken heart. He took a page out of Carrie Fisher's book and took his broken heart and turned it into art. To his surprise, his comedy special wasn’t as bitter as he thought it would be. 

It was a sappy little rant that filled an hour long spot that was worth of Netflix and he was pretty fucking impressed with himself. So when his agent started shipping it around, he found that a lot of people liked it too. They could relate to everything he was saying and it was shit people wanted to hear. 

They were picked up for a recording of it and Richie hadn’t been this excited about something in a while. Only issue was by the time it was time to actually record it, he had to change the ending. Originally it was just him talking about how much of a loser he was and how he hoped one day he would be a winner. By the time he was going to do the special, he was a winner. 

Eddie had shown up on his door step. Ring finger on his left hand completely blank. He wasn’t there to stay. He had never gone on a single vacation since he took his job so he had a month long to do whatever he wanted with pay. He and Myra were going to use it for their honeymoon even if they didn’t plan on going anywhere. 

“And where is Myra now?” 

Eddie had no idea. As it turned out, Eddie decided to actually think about what Richie told him. A few days after their conversation Eddie put their wedding on hold before finally ending it altogether. It wasn’t easy in the least. She cried and begged and even said she would die without him, but nobody would actually do that. His mom survived without him and so would Myra. 

“I didn’t leave her for you,” Eddie told him right off the bat. “I didn’t leave her so you can finally rub that in her face or hold it over me. I left her because you were right. And don’t you fucking dare hold that over me, because it will only happen once in a life time.” 

Richie stopped listening. He didn’t care why Eddie did it. All that mattered was that he did it. He left Myra and came to him, ready to start for real. No hiding in the shadows or holding their hands under the table. This wasn’t high school. This wasn’t Derry. Richie knew people were still homophonic. People were still going to hate him because he was gay, but Richie just couldn’t fucking care anymore. 

He kissed Eddie there, right on his door step in the middle of the breeze LA air. Richie couldn’t remember being this happy. Being this fucking blissful.

It wasn’t always perfect. They fought often because Richie was stuck in his ways and even if he was out, he was still sloppy and obnoxious. Long distance relationships sucked and sometimes Eddie got jealous and sometimes Richie would make little comments that touched him the wrong way. 

The sex was good when they had it and Richie found that angry sex was pretty fucking hot. Having Eddie take him from behind, those perfectly taken care of fingers digging into his hips as he reminded Richie who he belonged to was probably the highlight of his adult sex life. And maybe Richie went out of his way to mark Eddie’s perfect untouched skin with bites and hickey so that the people in his work place knew he wasn’t some prim and proper little bean. 

They were in love. Pathetically so. Disgustingly so because _God_, Richie would be lost without him. He hated it. He hated how his heart fluttered whenever Eddie was in the same room or whenever he would talk about him with colleagues. Two men couldn’t legally marry as of yet but that didn’t stop Richie from proposing. He had this big fucking speech prepared but when the time came all he could do was just blurt it out. 

He did it at the beach because he knew Eddie would never suspect it. He hated the sand in his shoes but loved the sound of the water crashing on the shore. It was sunset and Eddie wanted to get one picture together. Richie probably should have waited, especially since he didn’t even have a fucking ring, but he didn’t think Eddie should want one. He wasn’t a jewelry person after all. You buy big, gaudy diamonds for girls. What did a man buy another man? A football? A car? Richie didn’t fucking know.

He honestly expected Eddie to pat his hand and decline. After all, it had barely been a year since he called off his last wedding, but he agreed. Kissed him stupidly on the water's edge, not caring who fucking saw. Not caring that they both made it very clear that they would fuck right there on the beach even if sand got everywhere. 

They put their wedding plans (or civil union or whatever the fuck it was called) on hold when Eddie’s mother died and they had to return back to Derry. It was hard on them all especially since the woman basically blamed Richie for ruining Eddie’s life. 

She refused to come to New York to see their place after they bought it. Richie left California, not caring that he was giving up easy auditions for movies and shows and shit to be with Eddie in the place that was cold and wet. He got a job writing for SNL. He wasn’t a featured player and that was fine. He didn’t need to act. He was funny with his words alone. It worked out pretty fucking well for him and he was optioned to be the headwaiter once the current one finished their course. 

Regardless, even after all the good that came from them being together, Sonia Kaspbrak hated Richie and would never accept their relationship. Richie wasn’t sad when she died, because she was a shitty person who hurt Eddie, but he also understood why Eddie was sad. His mother wasn’t perfect and maybe she was even abusive in one way or another, but that was his mother. One is better than none, right? 

They go all the way back to Maine, in that ugly, sleepy town that didn’t matter to anyone so they can roll Eddie’s mother into her grave. All the Losers are there, having made the trip for Eddie’s sake. Beverly and Ben arrive together, announcing their engagement quietly. Eddie was happy for them, they all were because even if they were back home for a shit reason, they couldn’t deny that they were happy for them. 

Richie was happy too, glad to see Beverly finally choosing her own happiness just like he had. He stayed in the background, helping any way he could though it was more or less a lost cause. Eddie’s family wanted little to nothing to do with him and he felt more like an outsider than ever. 

He snuck outside for a smoke break, hanging around Eddie’s backyard that didn’t have a treehouse or swing or anything that even looked like a kid had previously lived there. An older woman was sitting in one of the chairs, smoking on her own. Across from her was a kid, maybe one of Eddie’s cousins, he didn’t really know. Again, nobody wanted a single thing to do with Richie, so he wasn’t sure who was related and who was just hanging out. 

“You’re the funny man,” The older man commented, catching Richie off guard. “Sonia didn’t think you were very funny.” 

“Some people do,” Richie commented with a light shrug. 

“Edward seems to.” She decided, wrapping her lips back around the cigarette. 

The kid was young. Maybe around one or so. Dressed in an old fashioned dress, she played on the grass with a Raggedy Ann doll. The thing was old and dirty and creepy. It reminded Richie too much of the clown doll his older cousin won at the state fair years back.

The old woman stood then, nodding over to the kid. “Watch her a sec? Haven’t had a moment's peace since we arrived.” 

Richie wanted to express that no, he shouldn’t be left alone with children. He wasn’t a parental type. He could barely make himself a bowl of cereal without making a mess, you expect him to make sure the kid didn’t eat dirt? But the woman left and Richie was left alone with this toddler. Sighing deeply, he sat down, not even caring if he got dirt on his suit. 

The toddler looked up, brown eyes wide as she inspected who was with her. She had light bruises on her cheeks and head and Richie wondered what had happened there. The older woman seemed too fragile to make any marks, but Richie knew a nun or two that looked closer to death that could whip his ass real good back when he was a child. 

He tried to keep her attention by using all the silly voices and funny faces he had perfected over the years. She smiled brightly at him, offering up that old doll that Richie wanted to throw into the barrens. He wasn’t sure how long he stayed there for, sitting on the grass, watching her play. 

Eddie came outside, rambling on about how he needed to just breath and wished he still had his inhaler when he caught sight of them. “Whose this?” He asked curiously. 

The old woman retuned then, nodding over to Eddie. “That’s Sylvia’s daughter.” She announced like it would explain anything. 

  
Even Eddie was confused for a moment until he put the pieces together. Apparently, Sylvia was the daughter of the niece of Eddie’s grandmother on his father’s side. Cousins of cousins or whatever. Regardless, there was some blood between the two and the old woman was the father’s grandmother. Both parents died in a drowning accident that may or may not has been a murder-suicide. Richie didn’t want to fuck know. The important thing was that the kid wasn’t related to Sonia, but Eddie, which meant there was some goodness in her.

Eddie later found out that the old woman was named Marigold and that she was currently dealing with some version of cancer that she didn’t want to talk about. Richie shook his head, thinking about how the poor kid was so young and lost both parents (who didn’t seem that great to begin with) and pretty soon a great-grand parent (who seemed cool). 

When Richie asked about the marks, Marigold waved it off. “She’s wobbly.” She proclaimed and was proven right when the toddler stood up on her toes and moved forward, falling forward moments later. It was cute and Eddie went to help her, leading her back into the house so they could move on with the ceremony. 

Richie found that while he wasn’t into kids, he thought the toddler was pretty cool. She was little and quiet and adorable. She reminded Richie of Eddie even if they were only like ten percent related. She was pale with dark hair and eyes and just so fucking cute. 

Eddie seemed to like her too, despite being a germ filled child. Eddie admitted to having played with Sylvia a time or two during their childhood. Somewhere deep in his house, he found pictures of the two together and Richie couldn’t get over how fucking cute Eddie was as a baby. 

The toddler fell asleep on Richie at the end of the night. Marigold tossed her onto his lap so she could say her goodbyes and she sat there so quietly and contently, fall asleep right in his arms. Eddie ended up snapping a picture and Richie found that he didn’t hate having a kid around him. 

They saw her the day after the ceremony too because Eddie wanted to give Marigold some of the stuff his mother had in the house. Older stuff an older woman might like. She refused as it became very clear she wouldn’t have use for them for very long. She used a breathing tank in the corner and smoked regularly. The fact that she lived as long as she did was purely fascinating.

Richie all the while went and played in the small bedroom with the toddler who didn’t have much of anything. 

A small cot instead of a crib or bed. Barely any toys and clothes. Marigold was doing her best but she wasn’t equipped to be a mother a second or third time. She did it because it was family, but she wasn’t going to be around for very much longer. 

She didn’t know where she’d go next. Maybe she’d be passed down to the next available family member or maybe she’d be put up for adoption. Lost in the system for ages or maybe she’d et adopted. Richie thought she’d get adopted. She was a sweet kid who deserved nothing but the best. 

By the time they retuned back to Eddie’s childhood home, they realized they wouldn’t be leaving Derry without her. There was a lot of paperwork that had to be filed, but Eddie was family and had a good job. People still didn’t think gays could truly care for a child, but in the end, the courts ruled that she was there. Marigold handed her over easily enough, mostly because she didn’t have much of a choice and knowing that Sonia Kaspbrak would roll over in her fucking grave knowing two homosexuals were raising a child just barely related to her made her feel like she was doing the right thing. 

Richie felt like he was losing his god damn mind. They went from two young adults living their best lives in New York City to being parents. Fucking _parents_. Who the fuck would allow them to become parents? 

It was hard at first, because hello it’s a _child._ Changing and adjustments had to be made. Richie was around in the morning and then he’d go off when he could. They hired a nanny because they could afford it. The toddler had to adjust as well. 

They bought her everything she needed and filled her room up with toys and clothes and a proper bed. Marigold kept the Ann doll, which Richie swiftly replaced with an adorable stuff cat that the little girl slept with nightly. They talked about adopting a pet a time or two but decided to wait until they were all adjusted to their new life before adding another member to the family.

Her name was Olivia but they called her Livie because they liked nicknames in their household. As it turned out, she wasn’t exactly wobbly and that the reason for her constant bumping into things and bruises came from her being as blind as all hell. 

A baby was cute enough but seeing a baby with glasses was just too fucking cute. It did something wonderful to Richie to seeing her wear the thick glasses that reminded him so much of his own. Now she looked like a sweet little combination of them both. 

After a small conversation, they decided Richie would be Papa and Eddie would be Daddy. Richie made a small joke about how he would happily call Eddie daddy. Another conversation went by and they decided her last name would be Kaspbrak. Not because Richie didn’t want to pass his own name on, but because Eddie’s dad was a pretty good person before he died and the last name was the one thing he could keep of him that his mother couldn’t ruin. 

Olivia Kaspbrak.

It was perfect. She was perfect. 

And for a good while, life was perfect. 

To their utter surprise, it seemed gay marriage had been on a good conversational piece for the past few weeks and had been going on and on with the senate and shit. Eddie paid attention to that shit, though with his mother dying and adopting Livie, neither really knew what was going on in the world. 

It was Stan who had told them the good news, wanting to hear about when they’d finally be tying the knot. Both were exhausted from work and parenthood that all they could do was smile and laugh and kiss before carrying on with their day. 

They put their wedding on hold for a year because they wanted to get things settled down first. They bought a bigger place so that Livie had a room of her own and Eddie could have his office. It was close enough to the studio for Richie and as he continued to get promoted, they found that life was going pretty fucking well for them. 

When they did get married it was a small ceremony. Friends from their work, the Losers, and Livie. That was it. That’s all they needed. Richie wasn’t the sentimental type, but fuck he cried so deeply on his wedding day. 

Richie Tozier, who had been so trapped in the closet he was hanging out with the monsters that lived there, was getting married to the love of his life. His best friend. His partner. Every word you could use to describe a person in the best way. 

They picked out matching wedding bands and Richie made sure to use that SNL money wisely on it. They weren’t going to settle one some silver garbage with no design. Oh no. They were going to be flashy as all hell when it came to their fucking rings. Richie wanted people to notice and ask so he could tell, so he could brag. 

Died was the boy too shy to even glance at another boy; long live the homosexual king of Saturday Night Live!

Their suits were blue and matching, just like the dress that Livie wore as she walked down the aisle as their flower girl. Her dark hair was in pig tails and her glasses were bedazzled. She wore a dress that Beverly designed just for her and little buckles on her shoes. She pouted at the mess she was making as she dropped the petals on the ground because despite being raised by Richie, she was taught to always clean up like Eddie. 

In the end, they didn’t go on some big honeymoon. They went back to California and took Livie to Disneyland. They were a family and while the idea of being on their own and drinking until they were unconscious seemed interesting, neither man wanted to do anything other than be with their little girl. 

They had a good life and it just seemed to be getting better and better until it wasn’t. Until Eddie was lying in a hospital bed, unresponsive with blood loss and brain damage all because he wouldn’t give up his wedding ring. 

Richie wasn’t sure how much more he could take. The constant waiting. It got to the point where he just wanted Eddie to wake up or not. Live or die. Pick a fucking side because he wasn’t a hopeful person. He was an idiot who was lost in love and just wanted to move on. He just wanted to tell his daughter whether daddy was going to come home or not.

In and out of the hospital, visiting until he became a regular there. It was getting to be too much for him. The others came to visit. Stan, and Bill, and Ben, and Bev, and Mike. All of them came to check up on Eddie and Richie and Livie. 

Bill and Richie had gotten into a fight at some point. He was flirting with Beverly. Like he didn’t have a wife at home. Richie dragged the guy out of the hospital and into the smoking area where he ripped him a new one. 

“You have someone to go home to! Eddie may never come home and you’re gonna throw it all away and for _what_? For someone who looks at you like you walk on air?” 

“It’s n-not like t-t-that.” Bill tried to say. 

Bill had been having issues with his wife and his latest script. Seeing Beverly made him feel like he wasn’t a failure. The idiot didn’t realize he was flirting. Didn’t take in the fact that Beverly was just a very good friend and that she was happy with Ben. Very happy. 

She apologized to Richie because it seemed every single time they had something going on, she was putting her own dirt out there. She and Ben were with child. They're first. Richie couldn’t be happier for them. 

He just wanted his husband back. 

Richie came to the reality that eventually, things were going to go on the way or the other. He was either going to become a widower or they’d move onto the next step. Day in and day out, visiting and wishing that Eddie would just . . . choose. Stay or go. He wanted him to stay. Needed him to. But he wanted him to do what was best for himself. He felt like he was going out of his mind, but he just didn’t care anymore. 

He made his way in on a Thursday. He was tired and Livie had a cold. He was going to tell Eddie about it. About how she sneezed sixty-times in one hour. She was suffering and just wanted to sleep. Richie wanted to sleep too. Despite growing up with the fear of germs taking over his system, Eddie was better at handling little illnesses like this. There had been countless times when Richie felt like absolute trash, but his husband was always by his side to take care of him. Making sure he was hydrated and shit. 

He was a good husband. A good man. And Richie just hoped he could be even half the person he was. 

Le-Dia was waiting for him though no coffee was in her hand. “Come on, Le. You can’t cut me off. I told you, it’s not an addiction. It’s a necessity.” He groaned as he approached her. 

“Richie, baby,” She spoke gently. 

Richie didn’t want her to finish that sentence. Didn’t want her to apologize for something. Nurses don’t apologize unless something went wrong and he wasn’t stupid enough to ask. He pushed passed her, going to the room that had been assigned to Eddie when he was brought in, but it was empty. 

“Where is he?” Richie demanded, looking around the hallway. “Where the fuck is he?” 

“We moved him,” Le-Dia explained carefully.

“Moved him _where_?” 

“Upstairs.” 

You don’t take dead people upstairs. That . . . that made no sense. You bring their dead bodies down to the basement in bodybags. Not upstairs. Richie went upstairs, pacing back and forth because nobody would fucking say a word to him until the doctor came along. 

Eddie woke up. He wasn’t speaking much, but he was responsive. They had to work on him and do a handful of shit but they took care of it. It felt like a fucking forever, sitting in the hallway until he was finally allowed to go and see him.

Eddie was pale but alive. Exhausted, but awake. Richie approached carefully, his heart fucking skyrocketing when Eddie turned to look at him and smiled. “I thought we agreed you’d cut your hair?” He asked breathlessly.

Richie was ready to fucking _weep._

“You think I’d let you miss out on the satisfaction of it scattering across the barbershop floor? No, baby, you have to be there for that.” 

Richie took Eddie’s hand, holding it tightly in his own. 

“I heard I won a fight,” Eddie spoke quietly. 

Richie wouldn’t know if he would really call it a fight. The only fight Eddie put up with was hand-to-hand combat with death him, but he wouldn’t admit that now. 

“You’ve been in a coma for weeks, Eds. But yeah, sure. You’re the big winner.”

“Miss me while I was gone?” 

Endlessly. Pathetically. Richie was fairly certain if this ever happened again, he’d just off himself to cut out the hassle. 

“A bit.” He answered softly, leaning down to kiss Eddie’s carefully. It was an act. A simple one that he never thought he’d get to do again. “Eds?”

“Hmm?”

“Our daughter sneezed in my mouth this morning.” He confessed. “So all those germs went right into our mouth when I kissed you.”

Eddie groaned, using more strength than someone in his condition should have to push him away. “Dickhead.” He muttered, sticking his tongue out in disgust. 

Richie could only laugh, kissing the back of Eddie’s hand, which was still on his own. The hand that bore that gorgeous wedding band that Eddie nearly died to keep.

They had a long way to go. Eddie had to get his strength up. There may be some brain damage that would last longer than either liked. Eddie would have to learn to do things again. Little things. Sometimes he would forget things. Sometimes he would have nightmares, but none of that mattered right now.

He was awake. He was alive. 

They had all the time in the world. 

**Author's Note:**

> First Reddie story. Will there be more? I have no idea. Let's find out together, shall we?


End file.
